Lost Angel, The

Described as 'a bar, restaurant and boozer, a real neighbourhood joint', one gains an instant impression of the sort of place you'd like to be at, and reality only underlines how right you are. Whilst all the things you want of a home from home are there, it's more the fact they blend into a great big feeling of contentment, a place where the life you want falls back into place and you are at peace.

You don't have to be a royalist to admire the 10 foot picture of the Queen, but it's nice to give HM a cheery wave when you come in, convinced that if ever she got off the leash she'd be pretty happy down here too. The white phone box is not infrequently used by mobile phone junkies, perhaps wanting to extend the experience? Whatever.

The Lost Angel is the sort of place where people lunch, not necessarily ladies, though they are always welcome like everyone else from noon to 5pm Tuesdays to Saturdays. A series of small dishes, starters, tapas, call them what you will await the breakfastless for whatever reasons, those for whom dinner later is not an option, or just the plain enthusiasts about food. A fig and Silton salad with baby spinach, mache and watercress, deep fried bocconcini with beetroot and chutney, Saudi prawns with chilli, lime and coriander or marinated anchovies are but a few from a nice little selection of tastebud ticklers. For something larger the grilled bavette steak with Béarnaise sauce and fries weighs in well, or for our maritime colleagues how about plaice goujons with thin fries and Tartar sauce? Swing those lamps.

A homemade cheese burger with gherkins, fries and salad fills a substantial gap, but me, I would head for the celeriac schnitzel served with Béarnaise sauce and a mixed leaf salad. And if you think I'd eat Béarnaise sauce with anything, including porridge, you'd be spot on.

Returning to more socially acceptable observations the rice pudding with strawberry compote is a living example of how it's not too late to understand it was not the menu at school that was wrong, it was the nature of the cheffing. Likewise the crème brûleé of a passion fruit persuasion, which never went further than the High Table anyway. And there's always the cheese board, a comely spread, accompanied by assorted crackers, figs and quince jelly.

The evening menu brings new opportunities for chef Anthony Hicks, with smoked salmon blinis with crème fraiche, chives and lemon oil, or a ballontine of foie gras, red onion confit and toasted brioche as an opening volley. Main courses of roast belly of pork with fondant potato, honey roast carrots and seasonal greens, or pan fried king prawns with garlic, chilli and lemon are but two from six choices on the menu, with a chocolate brownie and vanilla ice cream, or a selection of Jude's ice creams and sorbets to follow.

Described in their own words as a 'destination boozer' I would suggest that might be a masterly piece of English understatement, adding only that if you want some fun time amongst congenial folk, The Lost Angel is there for the finding.

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